


Guardians of the Leicester Alliance

by TK_DuVeraun



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Canon character deaths, Claude is too clever for this plot, Drama, F/M, Multiple Timelines, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Spoilers all routes, how many chaotic dumbasses can fit in one story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-12-07 13:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20976392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TK_DuVeraun/pseuds/TK_DuVeraun
Summary: If Byleth could go back enough times, pick the right lord, recruit the right students, then maybe no one would have to die. Except when they went back this time, it was different. They didn't enter the timeline on their first use of Divine Pulse, instead they woke in bed before the house leaders appeared with their plea for help.Byleth has entered a timeline where Claude has a bodyguard as dedicated as Hubert or Dedue. Is that enough to shift the future? It had better be; Byleth isn't sure how many more times they can try.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, yes!
> 
> While there will be a lot of focus on Byleth, this is my "I'm living my best life and my OC is gonna Smooch Claude" fic, so if you're just here for timeline shenanigans and outwitting the plot, brace yourself! 
> 
> If you don't like OCs, but think I've got some cool ideas, check out [Pulse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20578085) my Byleth/Claude everyone lives, no one dies fics.
> 
> As a final opening note: this Byleth is genderfluid. For the most part, scenes happening in the present timeline will refer to them as "she/her," flashbacks, memories or references to other timelines will be different.

It was different. It was never different. Six times, Byleth had gone back to try it all over again, tried to save everyone. Each time, they had returned to the first moment they used Divine Pulse. They came back and saw the axeblade coming for Edelgard and had only a moment to assess their new body before having to court the young house leaders. This time, they woke, literally, in their bed at the inn in Remire village. They patted their body down. Breasts, no penis. They had the body of a woman. Did they feel like a woman? Enough like one.

She rolled out of bed and pulled her armor on. Her gear was already stacked neatly by the door. This part of her memory was fuzzy. She hadn’t ever been back this far and she had six iterations of the war to sift past to find it. Dreams… Something about her dreams, she’d said to Jeralt. The only dreams she’d had before Sothis woke were of the war… Nemesis and Seiros on the Tailtean Plains. The canvas straps on her heavy packs bit into her coat, but she paid it no mind.

“You ready to go, kid?”

Byleth nodded. Her grief from Jeralt’s deaths in the other timelines screamed from the pit of her stomach, but like every other time, it sat beneath a deep fog of fate’s will. She wanted to hug him and use words and emotions passed through her nonchalance to tell him how she loved him and appreciated every sacrifice he’d made for them. 

“Captain, you’d better come see this.”

Fate pulled on the string attached to her chest and dragged her outside to meet the house leaders. They were so young, always so young with bright eyes and flushed cheeks. She wanted to yank the rope out of her father’s pack and tie the three of them together until all of their secrets were in the open and the war was avoided. The Crest Stone of Flames burned in her chest, reminding her of the last time she’d tried that, on the second rewind, after Dimitri died skewered on a half dozen spears on Gronder Field.

She tossed the hopeless desires away. This time was different. She was different, waking up in a bed instead of in the hazy mist of shattered time. The first wave of bandits fell, as easy as every other time, but the difference, the  _ difference _ was so subtle she almost missed it. Claude’s bow was different: the arms painted, delicate golden horns covered in clear lacquer. A present? A gift was the difference? Did it fire faster? Would he hit Kostas before she could foolishly throw her back and not her sword in front of Edelgard?

Scenarios played out and faded as she climbed the hill with Fodlan’s future leaders. Who had given him the-

“Your Highness! Are you injured?” Dedue’s voice broke through the haze of ideas and theories. His uniform was uncharacteristically rumpled and sweat beaded across his forehead. Hubert was a few paces behind him, dirt streaked on his trousers and purple-black magic glowing in his hands.

“Hubert?”

“Dedue?”

“Oh no,” the house leaders said in unison.

“Lady Edelgard, I am relieved to see that you are well,” Hubert called over the din.

“Dedue, what are you doing here?” Dimitri lowered his lance, but not his guard as he joined with his vassal.

“It’s for the house leaders only,” a brassy, unfamiliar voice said. Before she could say anything else, there was a loud squelch-crunch-shing of a sword piercing through flesh and armor. Kostas grunted up on his vantage point, his arms reflexively reaching for the blade protruding through his chest. The young woman shoved his body off her sword and stood on his back. “Nothing bad ever happens on the exercise! It’s supposed to build rapport between them! Yeah! Almost dying will do that to you.”

Byleth had no idea who she was. Logically, if Hubert and Dedue were there, the third member of their party should be Hilda, but there was no mistaking this dark skinned woman for her. Her uniform jacket had tails like Lorenz’s and she had a green silk cravat embroidered with golden gemstones tied at her neck. She had half of her head shaved with her remaining hair pulled back into a ponytail that trailed into a braid down to her hips. She wiped down her wide-bladed shortsword with a rag as she tromped down the hill. 

“You will not speak to Lady Edelgard in such-”

“It’s alright, Hubert. It seems Aquila was right to follow us. And you were right to follow her.” Edelgard patted his arm and turned to Byleth. “We cannot thank you enough for your assistance. Even with our retainers, we would have been in a tight spot.”

Despite his earlier acrimony, Hubert exchanged a look with Aquila that said they doubted that. Byleth knew Hubert’s skills and the silent boast from him wasn’t far from the truth, but the stranger… She must be the reason for the change. Killing Kostas certainly meant he couldn’t hurt Edelgard. For her part, Aquila was circling a protesting Claude, checking him for injuries.

“I swear, I lost a year of my life when you ran off like that,” she muttered, flipping his short, yellow cape over his head.

“I was making a tactical retreat!” He smoothed his cape and brushed her off with his fancy bow. 

“Into a village without a garrison? Try again.”

Before Claude could reply, Alois arrived with his squad of knights. “The Knights of Seiros are here! We’ll cut you down for terrorizing our students. Hey, they’re already- What are you three doing here, this was a house leaders-only assignment. At least you seem to be unharmed. And… Who’s this?”

“Ugh… Why him?” Jeralt rubbed his hand over his face.

Aquila leapt from Claude’s side and planted her feet in front of Jeralt. She pounded the right side of her chest with her fist and bowed at the waist. “Captain Jeralt, the Blade Breaker. I am Aquila of Meshurok Company. It’s an honor to fight on the field with you, sir.”

He turned fully away from Alois and gave her the same inspection Byleth had.In addition to her short sword, she had a shield over her back, a dagger in her boot and a lump in her puffed-out trousers that she would bet was a second dagger. “Meshurok Company, huh? Last I heard they were working out of Almyra. Never mind that, what are you doing in the uniform of the Officer’s Academy? Mercenaries don’t exactly get invitations to Garreg Mach.”

Byleth almost laughed at the irony, but it was caught in Fate’s web.

Claude came up and threw an arm over Aquila’s shoulders. She was only the slightest bit shorter than him, but he seemed determined to milk it. “Sorry, that would be my fault. After my uncle’s tragic death, the Alliance didn’t want to take any chances with the Riegan heir.” He held out his right hand. “Claude von Riegan.”

Edelgard would never do something as uncouth as shoulder her way forward, but she was close. “I am Edelgard von Hresvelg. Truly, your skill is beyond question, both of you. You’re clearly experienced mercenaries.”

“And I’m not?” Aquila crowed.

“No one’s doubting your skill, Aquila.” Claude affected a silly voice, “Clearly your masterful powers of observation-”

“The way you held your ground against those bandits was captivating,” Dimitri interrupted. “You never lost control of the situation. It showed me I still have much to learn. I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd and-”

“Alright kids, that’s enough. You can stop posturing. I’m sure Alois and the Knights won’t let us go without a detour to the monastery. You can make your sales pitches there, but we’ve already got a job in Kingdom territory we’re committed to.” He gestured that he was going to tell their soldiers about the delay and that Byleth was to start up to the monastery with Alois and the students.

“It’s really bad form to proposition a merc when they’re already on a job, you know,” Aquila said in a whisper so fake, she may as well have shouted in Dimitri’s ear. Unlike Hubert and Dedue, who walked behind Edelgard’s and Dimitri’s right shoulders, Aquila was at Claude’s side. They moved around each other with familiarity, but it was two warriors with the thinnest veneer of trust, not the easy rapport of close friends, no matter the smiles on their faces.

“Speaking of bad form, how come you’re never as polite to me as you were to him?” Claude aimed an elbow at her, but she danced out of reach.

“Because, Duke Deer Junior, I don’t have to impress you.”

“I’m your employer!”

“Wrong. You’re my target.”

“Either way,” Hubert interjected, “your behavior is highly unbecoming. Contract or not, the Officers’ Academy may revoke your enrollment if you fail to meet the standards of the institution.”


	2. Chapter 2

As she walked down from Rhea’s audience chamber, Byleth questioned why her father would tell such a transparent lie. He’d hidden so much from her: her age, any knowledge of her mother, all but the existence of the Church of Seiros, all to keep her safe, but he couldn’t be so foolish as to believe Rhea fell for that lie. Unless it wasn’t a lie at all. Jeralt’s words could have been a gauntlet. A challenge thrown, daring Rhea to assert her place in Byleth’s life. It made sense logically, but seemed pointless, knowing what was to come.

Then again, Byleth was the only one who did know. She stuck her hands inside the trailing sleeves of her coat. This form had sensible taste in clothing, with leather leggings rather than the lace monstrosity of their last female body. 

They’d rewound time to choose the Black Eagles, to give Edelgard the confidante and adviser she’d so desperately wished for the last time. The mixture of failure and betrayal still stirred in their stomach from her crowning herself in secret, not revealing any of her plans, even to her dear teacher. They’d been determined not to fail her again, but this stranger in the monastery, this mercenary turned student that pushed Hilda one seat further back in the Golden Deer house. 

The solid heels of her boots clacked against the large paving stones that made up the floor of the entrance hall. Byleth let the students introduce themselves as she passed. Only for Edelgard did she pause.

“A teaching position at the Officers’ Academy is without a doubt prestigious, but I had wished to recruit you to serve the Empire directly.”

“In this fashion,” Byleth said, struggling to put emotion on her face, trying to make her compassion show, “I can advise you without motive or agenda. I will tell you what is best for Edelgard, the individual, not the Imperial heir.”

She laughed to hide the flash of bone-deep desire. “That’s one way to put it, I suppose. Will you be teaching the Black Eagles, then?”

“I believe that would introduce the conflict of interest I mentioned,” Byleth said. The way her face fell brought an ache to her chest. At least their heart hadn’t worked in the last timeline. That was the worst part of the transition back. “I want to be able to help without concerns for war or politics getting in the way.”

Edelgard dismissed her with a regal nod and a contemplative look on her face, eyebrows pulled together and head tilted slightly forward. Idly, she stroked the axehead on her belt.

The courtyard before the classrooms bustled with faceless students whose names shifted by a letter or pronunciation between timelines. It was cold to dismiss them as unimportant when she’d taught them all at least once, but Fate had looked into their worth and found them lacking. Byleth knew better than to fight it. Not after losing her father for the fourth time.

“Accepted a teaching position, huh? Not what I would have expected, but I can’t say I’m disappointed. Do you know which house you’ll be teaching?” Claude asked. He lounged against a support pillar, his casual posturing hiding the fact that his eyes never stopped watching for danger. “I bet you’d like our class. We’re not as excitable as the others.”

She held out a hand in supplication. Motions like that could sometimes make up for her blank expressions. “Tell me about yourself, Claude.”

“And ruin the mystery? You’re going to have to figure me out the old fashioned way, Teach.” He nodded to himself, liking the taste of ‘Teach’ in his mouth.

“Tell me about Aquila, then.” Byleth’s vision narrowed, all of her attention dedicated to Claude’s reponse - the verbal and his body language.

It started with a tilt of his head, a raising of his eyebrows, but only in the middle. “Well, she’s a mercenary, so you probably know more about her than I do.” A grin pulled one corner of his mouth up. He tugged at the braid hanging in his face. “Tough, stubborn, half as clever as she thinks and twice as much as she pretends to be.”

“You have a high opinion of her.”

“It’d be rude not to,” was his non-answer. “She’s hired to keep me safe after all. I always expected a bodyguard to be a little more present, but hey,” he shrugged, “can’t fault her for taking advantage of the facilities here.”

Aquila leaned against the classroom building behind him and pointedly out of his line of sight, but Byleth knew better than to think he didn’t know she was there. So what was his angle? Testing her?

“A bodyguard seems unnecessary with the Knights of Seiros.” For once, her blank stare worked to her advantage, portraying just how little she believed that herself.

“Came in handy with those bandits, though.” He shrugged. “Mostly I was worried about her discouraging the other students with her experience, but when she wants to show off, she just knocks Fraldarius from the Blue Lions around the training grounds and everyone seems to like it.”

“Tell me about your other classmates.”

His eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin, reassessing her. “Well, there’s Lorenz, of course. Heir to Count Gloucester. Hilda, younger sister of General Holst Goneril, I assume you know him?” He continued at her nod. “Lysithea von Ordelia, she’s a little young, but-”

“Claude.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t want to hear about the nobles, huh? That’s a mercenary for you. Raphael and Ignatz are both merchants’ sons. Ignatz has the business sense, but won’t inherit. Raphael  _ doesn’t _ and this is his way of supporting his family. Leonie wants to be you. You won’t know it looking at her, but Marianne is a noble, too. Adopted daughter of Margrave Edmond. Go easy on her.”

She patted his shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He watched her walk away until she left his line of sight in front of Aquila.

Aquila stretched both arms over her head and then spread her arms out with her hands palm up. “Welcome to the Academy, Ashen Demon. Not how I expected to meet you, but I’ll take it.”

She propped her chin up on one hand. “You expected to meet me?”

“Hoped to, anyway. Kids that grow up in Meshurok have to take a year of, well, mom calls it sabbatical, where they do solo jobs. I came to Fodlan explicitly to meet you and your father, got roped up with Duke Deer Junior over here and figured it’d wait until after. Fancy titles are a big thing in Almyra, not so much here, so you’d have to be something special.” She ended by shrugging one shoulder.

“I hope I haven’t disappointed you.”

She rubbed the shaved part of her head. “Not at all. It’s easier to keep a straight face in battle than in the face of a bunch of nattering kids. I’m an open book; I look forward to training under you.”

“No salute?”

Aquila smirked. “Are you a captain now? We’re particular about formalities. Keeps the lines clear when you’ve got so much family in a single company.” She fingered the cravat at her throat. “This place is real funny. Everyone pretending we’re equals while measuring the lines to within a hair’s breadth. Good luck with Lorenz, I bet he’s got his noble lineage tattooed on his ass.”

“Not worried about making things harder on yourself with comments like that?” Byleth tried to add a comment about Lorenz being the biggest threat to Claude, but she couldn’t pull the word through Fate’s haze in her mind.

“He’s harmless. More honor and arrogance than sense, but he’ll get rid of Claude politically, not with a knife in the dark.” Aquila brushed the thought away with a careless wiggle of her hand. “The only threat among the students is Edelgard and he’s not even on her radar.”

She lifted a single eyebrow as far as she could. She hadn’t found anyone to be suspicious of Edelgard this early in the timeline. Hubert was another story, but Aquila hadn’t mentioned him. “What makes you say that?”

Aquila scanned the courtyard without moving her head. Her eyebrows lowered over her eyes and her face tightened. “She was legitimized after the fact and not the only bastard before that. The claws don’t retract once you get to the top.” She shrugged and the dark expression left her face. “Not a lot of information on her, for being the Imperial heir. You’d think all of Fodlan knew what color ribbons her favorite pony preferred, but here we are. Conflicts are won in the mind first, as Papa says.”

“He sounds like a smart man. We’ll speak again soon.”

“Whatever you say, Prof.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience while I finished up Bad Things Happen Bingo!

“Wait, what? You’re really our new homeroom teacher?” Hilda exclaimed. The students stood in a semi-circle around her. Their chatter was identical to the first time, so Byleth let it flow over her like so much water. No matter how many times she went back, they were so young, too young, too bright in the eyes. There were exceptions, of course. Raphael didn’t carry a shadow in his eyes, but he knew loss and sacrifice. Then, of course, Claude, with his guarded heart and calculating eyes. 

“What do you think, Aky? Upset that Teach is infringing on your mercenary gig?”

Aquila shrugged and folded her hands behind her neck. “I get paid regardless. It’s only a problem if she wants to kill you, but honestly, that look? You’re in more danger of being adopted.”

Claude put his hand over his heart. “I have parents, thank you very much.”

Byleth would disagree, if she could, but Fate kept those words locked up.

“That doesn’t matter. Don’t get within three cities of my mom, or you’ll be adopted before you can blink.” Aquila threw a green ribbon at him and they mock wrestled over who got stuck with it. Claude lost, with it stuck to the back of his cape.

She cleared her throat. “There’s a mock battle between the houses. Aquila will definitely sit out. The rest of you-”

“What? But she’s the best fighter in our house. Do you want us to lose, Professor?” Hilda pleaded.

“This is a learning exercise more than a competition.” While speaking she threw her eating dagger at Aquila who reflexively knocked it out of air and harmlessly to the floor. “As you can see, it’s not necessary in her case. For trying to weasel out of it, you will be participating, Hilda.”

She let them bicker about it before assigning tactics reading and dismissing the class. Claude lingered by her desk while Aquila leaned over to scoop up the dagger.

Hilt first, she held the dagger out to Byleth. Thin scars cut across her hands and dug into her sword callouses. “Are you going to ask your question or keep making eyes at me?”

The blade returned to her belt with a smooth motion. Byleth pulled out a chair and made herself comfortable, propping her right ankle on her left knee. “Where are you from?”

“Almyra.” She fingered the cravat at her throat, the golden gemstones glittering in the light. The fabric was expensive and distinctive. “But if you mean this, my mother, and the company, are from Bihar.”

“Who hired you? I can’t imagine any Alliance nobles taking a day trip through the Throat to hire a mercenary when there are plenty here.” Bihar wasn’t a name she was familiar with. Jeralt had never taken her out of Fodlan, but from Aquila’s skin tone she could guess it was east of Almyra.

A long silence answered her question. Aquila exchanged a look and a few half-gestures with Claude. He flicked his gaze to Byleth, frowned and then blew out a loud breath. He said something in Almyran.

Aquila snorted and threw her hands up. “Well, if you’re just going to throw subtlety out the window, I may as well! About a year ago, this idiot showed up claiming to be Duke Riegan’s grandson with nothing more than his Crest to back up his claim.”

“Hey, the Crest of Riegan is a pretty good claim!”

“I’d also just crossed the border for my sabbatical. Anyway, Judith von Daphnel hired me to go back to Almyra and find Duke Riegan’s daughter to confirm his story. Once I did that, his mother hired me to keep him alive.”

“Not that I think you’re lying-”

“But you think I’m lying.”

“But my parents have always been the type to let me fend for myself.” Claude crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well if you really want to know, I’m not supposed to interfere until you’re absolutely, certainly, definitely about to die. Up to that point, you’re on your own.”

Byleth pointed to her. “He wasn’t knocking on death’s door when you intervened with those bandits.”

Aquila held up both hands in surrender. “You got me. There’s what I’m paid to do and then there’s what I’ll do because I’m not human refuse.”

“Did you just insult my parents?”

“I didn’t  _ not _ insult your parents.”

“That’s enough.” Fate kept a tight grip on Byleth’s tongue, but they had played the game enough to force enough words through. Her voice was softer than it had been in other attempts. “You both know something is coming.”

Fingers strayed to weapons, seeking the cool comfort of steel. Claude’s easygoing facade fought the tightening in his jaw. “Maman didn’t know Judith had stepped down from the Roundtable when I left.”

That might have explained why Aquila was hired, but how did she know. Byleth flipped her attention to her, meeting the stare headon. “Did your plans change at all? Did you always intend to come to Fodlan?”

“No.” Aquila shook her head slowly, her thick eyebrows drawn in tight. “I was passing through to Dagda. I wanted to know if any of Papa’s family survived the war.”

“What changed? You don’t just stumble into a job with Judith von Daphnel.”

Her head snapped so sharply it could have clicked into place. “But I did. I was in the weapon’s market in Derdriu and lost my balance… I don’t have Almyran blood, but I can pass better than anyone else she could hire.”

“And she hired you just like that? What if you were terrible at fighting?” Claude’s posture was relaxed and his tone was joking, but the look in his eyes was hard and calculating.

“No, she made me do some odd jobs around the city and then sent me to Almyra. And then your mother made me duel Nader. Why am I suddenly on trial? The Ashen Demon being hired by the Archbishop is far more suspect than me falling ass-first into a courier job.”

“You’re right.” Aquila and Claude both startled at the admission. “I think Lady Rhea has her own scheme right now. My father warned me to watch out for her and he doesn’t say that lightly.”

Claude and Aquila exchanged another look, but whatever idea they traded, they decided to keep to themselves.

“I won’t insult you two by telling you to watch your backs, but look out for the others. Especially in the other houses. This set-up,” she gestured to the classroom, “sets you all at-odds. I can’t get too close without it looking like sabotage.”

“Why are you so invested in us? You’re a mercenary, not a school marm.”

Fate wouldn’t let them answer, but thankfully Aquila had one that was close enough. “Mercenaries pick up strays. It’s kind of our thing. You saw how Shamir acted the moment she met me.”

“The Academy’s a bunch of noble brats. We’re about as far from strays as you can get.” He withered under both stares. “Alright, fine, the Archbishop is up to something and the Ashen Demon has decided to take in twenty-four little fawns. What’s our plan?”

“I don’t know. Yet.” Not until she could see how much had changed. With Kostas already dead, there would be no reason to go to Zanado. “Just play nice and don’t poison anyone.” She was surprised Fate let that one through, but apparently Claude had enough of a reputation.

“Whatever you say, Teach.” He gave her a mocking copy of Aquila’s salute to Jeralt and then stood. “Come on, Aky. All this scheming’s given me an appetite.” Which meant he wanted to discuss everything in private.

Byleth couldn’t blame him. She was acting oddly, very oddly. No one had ever trusted him with so much information so easily, so everything she said was suspect. Hopefully she hadn’t pushed him too hard too fast. It was hard to judge how he would react to things with a confidante, trusted or not.


	4. Chapter 4

It never occured to Byleth that the students most significant to Fate, the ones that remembered to meet in the monastery for the missed Millenium Festival, all had rooms on the same side of the building as her. It would be easy to think those students were simple the most powerful in their respective regions, but the Golden Deer House quickly disabused that notion. Raphael and his family had spent all of their resources securing his position and paying his tuition: all he had left to offer was himself. So it was with a mixture of amusement and curiosity that Byleth explored the other side of the dorms.

Aquila’s room was at the far end of the building, opposite Leonie’s. Byleth knocked on the door, but received no answer. Claude had claimed he was retiring to do homework in his room for the night, which meant Aquila should be in her room, as well. She knocked again. With a frown, Byleth backed up and stared at the door. 

“Heya, Professor.” Leonie appeared at her elbow. “Did you need something?”

A gesture to the door. “Aquila.”

Leonie rolled her eyes with her entire body, shrugging her shoulders, tilting her head back and forth and slumping. “She sleeps in Claude’s room because she’s his ‘bodyguard.’ Yeah, sure. Dunno how that one got past Seteth.”

If Byleth had been more able to show their emotions, they couldn’t have reacted in that moment. Through five-some iterations, they’d heard perhaps three rumors of Claude having intimate relations during his time at the academy. It wasn’t necessarily that Byleth thought him chaste as much as subtle. In summary, Byleth was too surprised to have a real reaction to Leonie’s comment. “Thank you. Have a good evening.”

The click of Leonie’s tongue, nearly a scoff, accompanied Byleth up the stairs to the second floor. The boys hastily closed their doors as she stepped down the hall, while the girls gave confused greetings. Outside of brief nods, she didn’t react, stalking down the length of the hall. Claude’s door was locked, so she knocked.

A clink of metal on metal, then Aquila asked, “Who is it?”

“Open the door,” Byleth answered.

More metal rattling, then the door opened. Claude waved from his desk. “Hey there, Teach.”

Aquila stood to the side, her socked feet standing on the end of a bedroll spread out at the foot of Claude’s bed and the bookcase against the wall. Her things were split between a sturdy pile next to the door - likely propped against it when it was closed - and hung up neatly on a thick rope, ready to be rolled into a bundle and carried off in a hurry. The rest of the room was Claude’s trademark collection of chemicals, books and suspicious burn marks. Not an affair, then.

She met Aquila’s eyes; they were an unsettlingly similar green to Claude’s. “Why are you here?”

“I-”

“Give me an answer I’ll believe.”

Color shot into her cheeks and blazed through even her brown skin. “I get really cold. The nobles’ rooms are much warmer.”

“She also can’t sleep alone,” Claude added without looking up from his notes.

“Do you want her to think we’re having sex?”

“If Teach was gonna think that, nothing we said was going to help. On the other hand, she can think you’re paranoid, even for a mercenary, or realize that you’re used to sleeping in a pile of armored, smelly comrades.”

Byleth rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. “You get cold and lonely and decided to sleep with your target instead of, say, Leonie? Hilda? Marianne?”

“I like how Lysithea’s not on that list.” Claude only barely managed to duck under the book Aquila threw at him.

She cleared her throat. “Let’s just say that gender isn’t the deciding factor for whether or not I’m uncomfortable sleeping in someone’s room.”

“Or their bed.”

“Can you not?”

“It’s my room.”

“Children, please,” Byleth interrupted. She moved into the room and unrolled a map of Fodlan on top of Claude’s work. “Do either of you have experience with pilgrims?”

“None for Seiros in particular, but plenty in general.” Aquila shrugged, but leaned over the map. She pointed to Seteth’s marker. “Though I can tell you right now, unless my geography is off - is that the right word?”

“I think you mean topography.”

She sounded it out. “I’ve never heard that word before.”

“You mean how high the mountains and such are, right?”

Byleth gave them a loud, “Ahem.”

“The point is,” Aquila said, rubbing the back of her neck, “This canyon is one of the worst ways to approach Garreg Mach. The land around it is cruel: steep, not a lot of tree-cover. Pilgrims are… the elderly, children, the dying hoping for last minute salvation.” She shook her head, braid falling over her shoulder. “Are you sure they’re pilgrims?”

“Our mission for this month is to rendezvous with the pilgrims in the Red Canyon and escort them the rest of the way to the monastery.” Fate tied Byleth’s tongue as they tried to say something about Kostas and his bandits, but they were dead. There was no reason other than foreknowledge that they would want to bring it up. She clenched her jaw. “Seteth is certain there will be pilgrims there in need of our help, but I had the same thought as you.”

Claude leaned in to the map and traced several routes to the monastery, none of which crossed Zanado. “It only makes sense if they were starting from the opposite side of the canyon. And isn’t the Red Canyon a sacred place? Pilgrims would know better than the travel through it without permission.” He paused and looked up at Byleth. “Though, if Seteth knows they’re coming, maybe they have permission?”

“Hold on, the Church of Seiros is already strange, but you’re telling me there’s a sacred canyon?”

“According to legend, when the Goddess arrived in Fodlan, it was the Red Canyon where she made her first home.”

As if she’d eaten something spoiled, Aquila’s face screwed up. “Can I get in trouble for heresy?”

“I get the idea,” Byleth said in lieu of an answer. “Don’t scare the others, but ensure they are armed and prepared for these ‘pilgrims’ to be more than they seem.”

“No need to worry about that, Teach.” Claude leaned back in his chair until only two legs remained on the ground. “I’ll suggest to Leonie that we do some hunting for the larder and she’ll prepare everyone else.”

“I’ll leave it to you, then.” Byleth pointed at Aquila. “I won’t protect you from Seteth if he finds out about this… sleeping arrangement.”

Aquila threw her head back and laughed. “He already approved it. He doesn’t want me to be cold, but also doesn’t want all of the noble houses to complain that a commoner has a room on the second floor. Apparently, even having Caspar up here resulted in complaints.”

“I don’t have to tell you that Lorenz will report any suspicious noises coming out of here, so use some discretion if you do-”

“I am a  _ professional, _ Professor. How could you suggest-”

A stern finger pressed to her breastbone silenced Aquila’s protest.

“I may not be located in the same country as discretion at any given time-”

“And isn’t that the truth,” Claude interrupted.

“-But you don’t have to worry about that, Professor.”

Regretting many of her decisions, Byleth left them to, hopefully, studying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are insufferable.


End file.
